


Where You Find Me

by Goliathus_Regius



Series: Where Am I [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Death, M/M, implied depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:47:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goliathus_Regius/pseuds/Goliathus_Regius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had never belonged there, and he knew it. It was a place for the dead. But sometimes, love can blossom in the strangest of places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where You Find Me

**Author's Note:**

> I felt lazy about editing this, so sorry for any errors. Hope this isn't a complete mess.

A small cemetery, graves shadowed by waving cherry trees, silence drowned out by the steady, endless roaring from the waves below it.  
It was hardly a place for the living. Still, the teen found himself, drawn to it. Day after day, month after month. Perhaps, at some point, months had even morphed into years. He didn’t pay much attention to time.  
At the far edge of the graveyard, left empty for all to see over as they wished, though few ever did, lay a cliff. It was perhaps 50 feet above the ocean that lived below. A breeze always blew from the water, rolling in lazily from other lands far off.  
He could sit there for hours, watching the waves gently lapping the shore with each breath they took. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine them to be the gentle breaths of the dead buried behind him.  
The teen was always alone there, save for the ocean that sat with him through the long hours. The village he lived in was small, and the cemetery wasn’t the one customarily used for those who had passed away. It was tiny, perhaps fifteen or so graves. There was plenty of space for more in it, but the people of the village rarely refused tradition.  
So, most everyone ignored it entirely. Many of the graves were old, some dating back past the 18th century, and the towering cherry trees were ancient by their species standards. It was a space no one found it appealing, or worth the bother to visit.  
Except him. He simply couldn’t help himself. It was such a relief to be alone. So nice to finally rid himself of the annoying, pestering teens who surrounded him at school, the rumors he knew spread like wildfire through the halls. The loneliness of being constantly reminded he had no one in the world anymore...  
He could leave that all behind when he came here. He had never been too fond of cherry trees, but the way they fell in light pink bundles onto the graves, decorating them with the flowers the living neglected to bring them was lovely, even to him.  
He sat on the cliff, legs hanging over the water below, silent as death himself. His gaze was locked to the ocean below, his mind much less focused as it pondered over what lay beyond the horizon, as he half-heartedly wondered if he’d ever be able to swim there...  
A boat sailed slowly in the distance, outline hazy in the shifting water and seaspray. It served him a reminder that this was a fishing village, that for most people, the ocean wasn’t a companion, but an object to be used for profit.  
Then again, anyone who knew anything about Haruka knew he most certainly was nothing like most people.  
For example, most people didn’t spend their free time sitting in a cemetery.  
In fact, he had never seen another living soul in his cemetery, not until one silent April morning.  
He had always thought that the cemetery would be his quiet place of refuge, and his alone. In a moment, that idea was shattered, the pieces taking refuge with the voice who had said, ‘Hello?’ softly behind him.  
He froze up at the gentle voice, almost inaudible through the roaring wind around him. No quite sure how he was supposed to respond, he turned around slowly, caution guarding his movements.  
“I-I’m sorry to disturb you,” the voice behind him said sheepishly. Haruka could see him now, a man perhaps a year or two older than him, and much more strongly build. His expression radiated with a soft kindness that promised it could never do any harm, though on many others, his prominent muscles and strong frame would have spoken of a much more hostile nature.  
Even so, Haruka didn’t like him being here. He was irked slightly by the idea that somebody else was encroaching upon his territory.  
His hands were empty, though Haruka couldn’t blame him for not bringing flowers, when he never had himself. It seemed unnecessary with the cherry blossoms, anyway.  
“I hope I’m not bothering you too much, I just, well... Didn’t expect anyone else to be here...” His gaze dropped from Haruka to the ground immediately before them, and the stranger shifted, looking uncomfortable.  
Haruka stared at him blankly, not responding. He was never good with socializing, but his skill only grew worse when it was to be applied at his private grounds, with a stranger who was invading them.  
After a moment of tense silence, he turned around again, trying in vain to get the stranger off his mind as he looked back out to the ocean.  
He scowled when the stranger spoke again.  
“Is somebody you know here, or do you just like the ocean?” Their voice was more confident now, only wavering slightly as they spoke to Haruka.  
Haruka turned around, and the man, who had been approaching him stopped when he saw the stern cold look in Haruka’s eyes.  
“I’m sorry!” He spoke quickly, nearly stammering over the two words. “I-I didn’t mean to upset you...”  
Haruka simply shrugged, hoping that they would get tired and leave him alone again.  
But of course, he didn’t. Instead, he moved closer to Haruka, careful to maintain about a meter of distance between the two of them as he moved closer to the edge of the cliff.  
“Honestly, I don’t care for it myself...”  
Haruka wasn’t sure what he meant, but he crushed down the bit of curiosity the comment sparked.  
“T-the ocean, I mean. I’m a bit scared of water.” He smiled shyly. “But it is pretty.”  
Stupid thing to say, Haruka thought to himself, but perhaps he was simply trying to be social. He was certainly doing a better job at it than Haruka was.  
At the remark, he nodded slightly, not giving the man any other indication he had heard him.  
“Umm, I’m Makoto,” the man told him, voice growing shy as Haruka watched him sit down just out of reach. He couldn’t blame the man, really. His stare had been called intense by a few people, though he never thought much of what they said to him.  
“Tachibana Makoto, umm, that is,” the man went on, looking to the ground again. When Haruka still failed to respond, he continued. “O-oh well, anyway, I’m sorry to disturb you, I just... Well, there’s a grave here...” As if to punctuate the point, his gaze rose the the small rows of graves that sat behind them. “A-a fisherman I knew once, who lived here but...” He sighed a bit, light in his emerald eyes beaming a bit. “He drowned out at sea during a storm, and no one ever saw him again...”  
Huh. So then, the grave was empty. Like he imagined most of the small, old cemeteries graves to be in a fishing village like theirs.  
“A-alright then, sorry.” The man stood up slowly, obviously having expected Haruka to have something, anything to say. But, he was disappointed as Haruka simply continued to stare at him with his wide, blank eyes. And he continued to as he made his way across the cemetery, careful to avoid stepping above a grave, an old superstition Haruka had never carried on.  
When he saw him stop at one of the graves, one that looked identical to the rest, and kneel down, the stone obstructing his view of the larger man, he turned back to the water. He couldn’t exactly forget about the odd stranger who had marched in unannounced and tried to get him to hold a conversation, but now that he had stopped paying attention to Haruka, he could at least a little.  
After what felt like a few minutes, Haruka had never been good at keeping track of time though, he glanced back again. The other man had been silent the entire time, and he wondered if he had slipped out unnoticed. But, no, he was still there, in the same spot as before..  
‘Odd,’ Haruka thought, looking over him. He couldn’t see much of him for the gravestone, only a shoulder and part of his face.  
“Is the grave empty?” Haruka called out to the man, who started in surprise, looking up at Haruka.  
It took him a moment to recover from the sudden question.  
“O-oh, yes, it is.” He told Haruka, looking up to him. “They never found his body, only the wrecked ship a few years later.”  
Haruka nodded a bit, his small bit of curiosity satisfied. He turned back to the water, staring directly below him. Just as the water could give him a small taste of life, it could rip it away from others. Not because they weren’t strong swimmers, or didn’t understand it, but because it was simply too powerful for any human to conquer.  
It wouldn’t be the worst way to die...  
Of course, the stranger’s fear of water wasn’t unwarranted. But there were so many ways you could die on land, did I really matter there was one way you could in the water?  
Whatever. He shouldn’t care, they were only a stranger, after all. He didn’t care about the people he actually knew, why should he for somebody he didn’t?  
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, staring out onto the water. His thoughts turned again to swimming off, wondering how far he could get before he gave out. If he’d be able to find someplace else. Then again, he didn’t imagine anywhere he could travel to would be much better than here. All people were the same to him, no matter how much they liked to divide themselves. Not like the water, who accepted its sameness with ease...  
It felt like hours, and probably had been, from the way the sun dipped into the horizon, leaving him with only the water and a trace of pink in the sky.  
He stood up slowly, wishing a bit he could stay longer but knowing he shouldn’t. Looking back, he couldn’t see the man anymore.  
Of course not. What kind of person would hang around in a cemetery for hours?  
Haruka never cared what other people thought, never let them stand in the way of his actions. And yet, he didn’t return to the cemetery the next day. He didn’t want to see that man again, as stupid as he knew it was.  
Instead, he opted on the Iwatobi community pool.  
He wasn’t quite sure what it was that made him want to go. He hadn’t been to an actual pool in perhaps a year. He’d only swum in the ocean. Not only did pools hold bad, dark thoughts and memories it would be safer to avoid, but being near other people while he was swimming wasn’t as appealing as the ocean.  
Even so, he found himself there the next day. Fortunately, the pool was mostly empty, save a child and a parent at the other end.  
It only took him moments to dive into the pool, relaxing easily into the water, the familiar tang of chlorine and...  
Just like he always felt when there was a swim team.  
No. Bad territory there. He simply had to focus on the swimming, the repetitive, fluid motion of slipping his way through the water. He did this all the time, it was no big deal. Except...  
No, there was nothing wrong with water, he should be enjoying this...  
“Nanase!” He had paused for a moment, catching the slight loss in his breath. Looking up, he flinched a bit at the person on the other side of the pool who had called his name.  
A girl, with familiar red haired pulled back into a neat ponytail.  
Why did Gou have to be here? No one else, and he to run into the sister of...  
Bad territory, again. But how could he keep out of it when their sister was in the same pool as him?  
He climbed out of the pool, hoping to avoid a confrontation. They hadn’t talked in months, Haruka being very skilled in avoiding people. Not like a person without any friends had many people to avoid, but still.  
“Hey wait!” She called out. “Haruka, you can’t just keep...”  
He drowned it out, moving quickly. Was he running? Hard to tell, the way this feeling entwined around him, snagging like a net. And it had taken him so long to get out the first time...  
Gou, Rin’s sister, who had just happened to be at the pool at the same time he had been here. Or perhaps she had saw him going inside, and decided to try and talk with him.  
That would have been pretty annoying of her. But as Rin’s little sister, annoying was an inescapable personality trait.  
Whatever. What did he care? He’d just go swimming at the beach, like always. It was stupid to come here...  
He pulled on his clothes in the locker room, heading out. Except, he didn’t go to the beach, like always. It was dark out, it would be stupid to. Instead, his feet led him down a familiar, inclined path.  
It had broken his schedule, that time in the pool. More than that, he couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that struck deep inside of him, the thought of seeing Gou, of being reminded of Rin and...  
Way too much bad territory there. How long would he have to go on like this? Avoiding not only everyone else, but parts of his own mind as well?  
He didn’t quite realise it when he arrived at the small wall, the little break that signified the entrance to the cemetery. He had never feared ghosts, and the dark night did nothing to change that. That is, until his heart skipped a beat when he noticed a light, human outline in the dark, standing near the cemetery entrance.  
He took a step back, mind racing, until he came to a stop, a small laugh almost reaching his lips.  
It wasn’t a ghost, it was just the guy from yesterday. He was still as well, Haruka could imagine his gaze on him.  
Sighing, he relaxed, taking a step forward. But, the man was turned away from him. Strange...  
That’s when he noticed the crying sounds.  
Definitely would have been a creepy scene, if he hadn’t talked with him before.  
“H-hey...” He said softly, taking a few more steps towards him. The man froze up, slowly turning around. Dim light from the moon, now high in the sky lit up his features enough for Haru to see them.  
“I-I...” Shame crossed his expression, and his gaze fell to the ground. “I’m sorry...”  
“For what?”  
“W-well, it’s not right, for a man to cry in public...”  
Haruka shrugged a bit. “I don’t care.” Scowling, he looked over the man. He looked disheveled today, weak. “It’s not public here.” No need to mention all the tears he had wasted here..  
Despite his relatively tearless eyes, the man still ran a hand along them, making a pathetic, sniffing noise. “R-right...”  
“Why are you crying? Can’t be that upset about the fisher guy.”  
The man, (Makoto, right?), flinched a bit at the harshness of Haruka’s words. “N-no, it’s just, well, everything, I suppose.” He smiled bitterly. “Oh, look at me, complaining. I imagine you have it much worse.”  
That genuinely surprised Haruka, and it took him a moment to reply with a, “Why’s that?”  
“I can see it in your eyes. You’re so very lonely, more than me.”  
Haruka stared at him in silence for a moment. Nobody else had commented on his eyes before, but he rarely enough got comments on anything about him but his “bratty” personality, so that was to be expected.  
“I’m not lonely,” he lied, suddenly furious with this stranger, for being able to read him like that. Who was he, to barge into him life and tell him things were wrong? He knew that well enough.  
“I’m sorry, it’s not my place to say such things. But... I can’t help but think you... Could use a friend.”  
“You don’t want to be friends with me.” Again, the icy tone that deterred everyone who had ever met Haruka.  
Everyone except Makoto, that is.  
“Yes, I do,” he insisted. “The way you come here, it tells me you loved somebody once, that you were happy then. I... I want you to be happy again.”  
He glared at him, mustering the best one he could. Not like it would do much good in the gloom around them.  
“I was never happier with him around. He was an idiot.”  
Immediately, he regretted the words, the way they showed him exactly how he’d become on the inside. This wasn’t right, he needed to be getting out of the net, not tangling himself further into it. But he couldn’t resist, not with the way Makoto was treating him like he could be saved. Such a kind, sensitive man shouldn’t be wasting his time with a person like Haruka, and he needed to show him that.  
Except, he doesn’t end up doing that. He had cut himself with his own weapon, and the gush of blood and pain was evident to Makoto, rather opposite to his original intent.  
He cared, that was the problem. He cared so fucking much, it never had left him. Not after years...  
He just couldn’t let go.  
“I...” He moved slowly through the graveyard, knowing exactly where it was, even though he refused to confront it.  
The words inscribed on it were illegible in the dark, but he didn’t need to know what they read as he slumped down, that feeling building in his chest again, demanding release.  
“Hello?” The man’s voice was soft, kind. Haruka had never heard anything like it before, not aimed towards him, anyway.  
That’s what set him off. Was he crying? How weak, to cry in front of another person. He never had before. Not even at Rin’s funeral. But Makoto didn’t say anything about it, simply sat next to Haruka, neither touching him, not disrupting his rapid speech.  
“It was three years ago, we were so stupid...” He got out, wondering briefly if Makoto could understand his garbled speech. He said more, words that even he couldn’t understand. Words about years ago, when everything had been nice, had made sense, when the world was a kind place that allowed him room for happiness, and childhood, and love.  
“He had always been my best friend, after I lost my grandma, the only one I cared about. He lost his dad, he got me, even if he was a pain sometimes. But...”  
He took a breath. Why was he going here?  
“He wanted to be an Olympic swimmer, like his dad. He got mad at me when I said I didn’t. Said I was an idiot.” He laughed bitterly at that one. It was a word they both enjoyed using quite a bit.  
Although, now, he would have to say Rin deserved the title more. All those years he had never said anything about the pain inside of him, how it kept building and building until he simply gave out.  
Which was no light thing for Rin. He wanted to keep swimming, didn’t understand how bad things were with his lungs...  
But he could sit here cursing him for his moronic actions forever, and it would do no good.  
“I guess I was, never noticing how much pain he was in,” he whispered hoarsely, talking more to himself than Makoto. “But how was I supposed to, when he hid it from himself? Guess he thought somebody with a lung disorder couldn’t be professional, and I guess he was right, but why?”  
Sighing, he relaxed his stiff muscles a bit. “I suppose I can never know for sure...”  
“It sounds like... You feel guilty about it.”  
Haruka glanced at him for a moment. “No, not really.”  
“Than, how do you feel?”  
How could he put that to words? The rushing torrent of confusing emotions, that at the end of the day amounted to...  
“Nothing. Just like I feel about everything else.”  
“Oh.” Makoto frowned. “But...”  
“I know, that’s not healthy. I never did grieve, though. Just kinda, drew back. But it’s different for everyone, isn’t it?”  
“But it’s stopping you from being happy.”  
“And what do I have to be happy about?” Haruka scowled.  
“You...”  
“Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.” Haruka stood up slowly. He had come too far out, been too honest. It was a stupid mistake. Makoto clearly didn’t get it.  
“Wait, no,” Makoto had a pained look in his eyes. “I do, remember?”  
“So? He was a fisherman you knew, this was my only friend.”  
“I... I guess so.” It was still there, evident in his expression. “But I can still help you, you don’t have to be alone like this.”  
“I want to be.” Haruka told him coldly, turning. And before the man could get out another word, he left, legs working into a fast pace, into a jog, into a run, into anything that could get him away from that place with the person who wanted to help him. Who hadn’t realised yet that he couldn’t be helped.

He knew Makoto was sitting next to him, but he didn’t even have to bother looking up.  
“What do you want?” Haruka muttered, not sure he was ready to talk with Makoto.  
“I wanted to talk with you...”  
Haruka sighed. “Go one then,” he said, feeling a bit defeated. As long as it would only be Makoto speaking.  
“You know, I lost my friends too.” Makoto admitted suddenly. “Not like yours, but they moved away after I turned 19, going on to bigger, better things. One, Rei, he’s an artist. Going to the best school Japan has to offer.” Haruka knew the man was smiling now, that grin that he couldn’t imagine somebody would be willing to let go. Even for art school.  
“The other, well. He simply tagged along with Rei, Nagisa isn’t the kind of person who leaves his friend behind. I think they’re happier there.”  
The sigh was almost unnoticeable, but Haruka heard it anyway.  
“You want to go onto better things like them,” Haruka spoke up after the silence became complete.  
“Well, yeah. But, hey, being a fisherman’s apprentice isn’t too bad...”  
“It is when you’re scared of the ocean.”  
“Ah, so you still remember that little comment? I can handle it. It’s not swimming.”  
“But storms...”  
“Ah, things were better today than they were. Storms don’t get us anymore.”  
Lies, Haruka knew. Makoto was terrified of such a job. But he didn’t voice that, it wouldn’t do him any good.  
Odd. Was he starting to care for the man? He had spilled himself to him last week, though that had more to do with how well he bottled up the feelings than how much he trusted the man...  
Right?  
He couldn’t be sure anymore. Everything was just so... Jumbled. Was Makoto doing this to him, or was he torturing himself?  
“Makoto, I...” His voice trailed off, and he was unsure of what he had been about to say.  
“You seem a little bit less lonely right now.”  
Haruka looked up to him, not feeling that anger before as much as he felt... A bit of warmth? Affection, perhaps?  
Ridiculous, he hardly knew him. But still, there was something about Makoto Haruka couldn’t deny made him different from the others.  
“I’m not sure about that... But maybe...”  
And then that smile, the one he had known for so short a time but somehow lit him up so much inside.  
“Haru, do you want to be friends?”  
“I...” He hadn't had a friend in years, never thought he would after Rin. “I suppose so...”  
Perhaps he wanted a bit more than that. Perhaps he hated himself fall in love with this strange man too easily.  
“But...” He reached out a bit, recoiling when Makoto flinched from the idea of touch. “I hardly know you.”  
“Yeah...” Makoto sighed a bit, gaze sliding to the ocean. He could see the bit of fear in his eyes, and Haruka reached out again, wanting to take him hand, to assure him it was alright.  
But, the way Makoto flinched away from every possible bit of contact told him he was shy. Maybe he’d gotten abused before? But how could somebody hurt someone who seemed so pure hearted and, well, kind?  
He tried asking, but Makoto denied any such thing happening.  
Of course, Haruka didn’t believe him, but he was good at staying quiet, and so, he did.  
And he didn’t ask again for the next few months, in which he learned much about this stranger.  
Could he be considered a friend, at that point? Haruka never thought he would make another friend, but he never had considered meeting a person like Makoto, either.  
There wasn’t anything not to like about the man. He spun stories of his mischievous younger siblings, how much energy they had, and of course, how much he adored the pair anyway.  
Haruka wished he had stories of his family to return, but the only memories that stuck out were those of his grandma. Those ones were hardly worth telling, though.  
Still, he didn’t mind being quiet and listening. Makoto replaced the ocean his mis mind as he sat quietly in the cemetery, always on the cliff's edge.  
There Makoto had told him that his siblings were the reason he fished, that he didn’t want them to end up living a life like his. He wanted them to go somewhere else, to do something great.  
“And you?” Haruka spoke up on a rare occasion.  
“Well, supporting them so they can do that is good enough for me.”  
And so, Haruka found the first person he’d ever wished he could help.  
But, he couldn’t. Somebody like him couldn’t do more than sit by idly, listening as Makoto went on about whatever he wished.  
Maybe it helped, in the end. He seemed to come out of his shell, speak more freely and happily as time went on. But that was only natural if you had been talking with somebody for a long time.  
Haruka never asked to go to his home, Makoto never asked either. It wasn’t necessary, not when they shared such a pleasant space by the ocean together.  
In this fashion passed six easy months. Haruka learned near everything about Makoto, his fears, what his family what his job entailed, his fears, his favorite things. Haruka liked to think Makoto learned a lot about him, but he didn’t speak up, so he could never be sure.  
Still, Makoto didn’t seem like the type who needed words to understand what Haruka was thinking.  
A pleasant November evening, that had been going much like any others. Until Haruka brought up the subject of the ocean, wanting to tell Makoto about a pod of dolphins he had seen a week prior.  
As usual, Makoto grew stiff at the mention of the word. That pained look took over his eyes, and if he hadn’t known better, Haruka might have thought he was in physical pain.  
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, dropping it. Even after six months, he hadn’t been able to change anything about Makoto’s fear of the ocean. Perhaps he never would.  
He tried to reach out, wanting to hold Makoto’s hand, assure him it was alright. He happened to be in arm's reach today, unlike the first few times they had met. It was the first time he had tried to touch him at all.  
But as he shifted his hand over, he wasn’t met with anything. Starting, he looked over to Makoto, and...  
His hand was passing through his, and his heart skipped a beat as he backed away swiftly, confusion mixing with fear in his head. What the hell had that been?  
No, his hand was still there, clearly right in front of him...  
“M-Makoto- what...”  
Makoto’s form straightened as he snapped his gaze to Haruka. That pain, that fear in his wide eyes, far worse than they had ever been at the mention of the ocean, it killed Haru. Even while he knew he should be the one terrified out of his mind.  
“What the hell...” He muttered, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving the man sitting before him. A dream, a bad dream. He’d wake up, and there wouldn’t be this thing in front of him, this thing that clearly wasn’t real. But... They had talked to him, they had the last six months. How could they not be real?  
“Y-you’re not real... How?” He whispered when his body refused to wake up,or even move.  
“N-no, I’m real,” Makoto breathed out, sounding distant. “I’m human, I really am, Haru, I promise...”  
“A ghost?” But, ghosts weren’t real... Right? Except, he could clearly remember the way his hand had simply...  
“Why?” He couldn’t hide his own pain, anger. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“I... You looked so lonely... Just like me... I thought... You would have been scared of me.”  
A tear, god that tear looked so read but Haruka knew it wasn’t, outlined the bridge of his nose. Was he doing that on purpose? Trying to manipulate Haruka?  
“But... I thought you were real, all along..”  
“I-I am real!” He cried out, and panic showed through his pathetic fear. “I have feelings, just like you. I had a life once, god, Haru, I...”  
His voice grew faint, and Haruka noticed that his edges had a faint swirls to them, like watercolors blending into the edge of a painting.  
He had fallen in love with a small wisp of the past. there is no use denying it.  
“Who are you? Really?” Haruka demanded, nearly shouting the words. His voice was furious, but he was only confused, so confused.  
“I... Can't...” The words came out choked, painful to hear.  
“Wait..” He reached out, but in the time he blinked, Makoto had vanished.  
Feeling ill, he moved from the edge, carefully standing on trembling legs.  
Had he actually met a ghost? Or was he simply going insane?  
Moving slowly, he made his way across the graveyard, arriving at the small grave Makoto had stood watch over.  
He grew nauseous seeing the words, ‘Tachibana Makoto,’ inscribed onto the simple grave. Even more so to notice the years.  
‘1822-1841’  
So Makoto had been here, waiting, for over a century? For somebody like him, somebody friendless, somebody so pathetic they’d be willing to trust a ghost?  
He stood in shocked, sickly silence until somebody behind him spoke.  
“I’m sorry.” He spun around, but the voice had no form, no body. It simply was, it didn’t need one.  
“I cared for you too, Haru. Perhaps in another life...”  
“Makoto. Where are you?” But still, he didn’t show himself  
He wanted to cry, but he couldn't, not now, not when...  
“Alas, I am destined to my small fate, and to your great one. I’m sorry. I remained to ensure that you didn’t spend your life looking for Rin. He’ll happy now, Haru. You go and be too.”  
“I...I can't!”  
But the only response he received was a faint, “I’m sorry.” And Makoto spoke no more.

He tried the next day, and the day after that. But after a week, it became evident Makoto wasn’t going to show himself again.  
He wasn’t sure why he needed to see him so much. Makoto had lied to him, he had manipulated his words so that Haruka wouldn’t figure out the truth.  
And yet, he wanted to see him again. More than anything, just one more time, why couldn’t he just get to say a goddamn goodbye for once?  
Still, all his need wouldn’t change the fact that Makoto wasn’t coming back, that those words he had said were truly to be the last one he gave Haruka.  
He had told him he had a great destiny, but he didn’t see how a ghost could know that. Certainly not one who had been stuck on the earth for over a century.  
He should have noticed sooner... Why was he so stupid?  
Last try, today was the last time he would try to find Makoto. He was exhausted of this futile attempt, just wanted it to be over.  
He sat for a few moments before Makoto’s empty grave, before a warm burst of air tickled the back of his neck. He turned around hopefully, but no one showed themselves.  
“I’m sorry,” he turned around, looking down at the soft grass coating the patch of land. “I guess you moved on, to wherever ghosts do. I shouldn’t have been so upset with you, I... I probably would have done the same thing. So... Yeah,” he concluded, breathing near a whisper.  
“And Rin... Him too. I don’t see, though, how I was destined for greater things, and he wasn’t.”  
Again, that warm, breath feeling on the back of his neck. Still, no one behind him.  
“Makoto?” He hardly breathe, waiting for something, anything.  
“Haru,” It wasn’t Makoto’s voice, but he didn’t recognize it.  
It was only there for a heartbeat, then it too, was gone, and he was left, shivering in the chilling wind.  
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but when he stood, nothing had changed around him.  
Slowly, he made his way over to the cliff. He stood in perfect silence. With his pale skin and still frame, surely any onlooker would have mistaken his for a ghost.  
He felt like one. No control, no one to care about, nothing. He had trusted one person, and they had been dead all along. The world was hardly fair. More than that, it was cruel.  
Maybe he really had imagined everything, he was simply a madman now. What came next for him then?  
He stepped closer, toes pressed on the edge. The water roared below him, winds crafting strong waves that slapped against the rock with great, terrible force.  
‘Haru,’ The voice whispered again, and he realized. It was Rin.  
“Leave me alone,” he growled. “You’ve done nothing but cause me pain. Why didn’t you speak up at all the last three years I’ve been here?”  
No response, only the howling of the wind.  
He lost track of events after that. Somebody called his name, not Rin, not Makoto, but a woman. He swerved around, feeling his heart racing above all other things in the world around him.  
It was her, no, she wasn’t supposed to still...  
A wind, he was knocked off balance. There was nothing to grab onto, nothing to do but flail as his body was pushed, over, falling, falling god he was going to die wasn’t he?  
And then water, and then movement, a force he could do nothing to fight, and a harsh crack he heard but didn’t feel as the rushing water succeeded, leaving his with nothing but darkness.  
There was warmth there, in the black, though, grief, too. Somebody was holding him, calling his name, trying to get him to stay awake. But he was too exhausted for that.  
‘Just... let me sleep.’  
Would anybody cry for him anyway?  
Did it matter if anyone did?  
‘Haru!’ He wasn’t sure whose voice that was, but he didn’t care anymore. He let that darkness envelop him without a fight. It would catch up to him sooner or later anyway.  
Haruka had heard a story once. It said that all ghosts remain on Earth until they can fix the biggest mistake their life had created. But when they made the mistake worse, no one could be sure what happened to the ghost.  
What was his biggest mistake? Would he remain on the Earth, even though those involved in his mistake were all gone?  
A small cemetery, where, once, the dead fought for the living. An odd occurrence, and perhaps in a different life it could have been a touching twist of fate. But it did Haruka no good in the end. The ghosts of his past had failed him, or perhaps they’d never really been there, and he had failed himself.  
The end result was the same, so did it really matter?

**Author's Note:**

> I have an idea to make this a small series, so if anyone wants me to, I could do that.


End file.
